


Now I Am An Arsonist

by MagentaPixel



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Human!GLaDOS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28613841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagentaPixel/pseuds/MagentaPixel
Summary: GLaDOS learns a few things about love, hate, and the human condition.
Relationships: Chell & GLaDOS, Chell & Wheatley (Portal), Chell/GLaDOS, Doug Rattmann & Wheatley, GLaDOS & Wheatley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. The Spark

The tests, at least, hadn’t changed.

The centuries had washed over them like a dawdling stream, dragging them down into an overgrown abyss. Even then, the moon dust had stayed firmly adhered to the portal surfaces, the metal doors still creaking and the ceiling still intact. Eons of rain had barely even permeated its surface.

She remembered those years with profound regret; dying was not as peaceful as the science would suggest. For a machine like Her, death was nothing more than a shift of programming, a new prerogative. Her backup program had been an endless recall, restarting Her systems over and over again, trying to salvage _something_. In each of those moments, GLaDOS could feel the scorching heat from the incinerator, the electricity burning through her body before everything went dark. 

Still, without dying, GLaDOS never would’ve fully appreciated how soothing, how _wonderful_ it was to test.

She remembered the urge to solve, to do Science, clawing within Her even as She broke into a thousand pieces.

Those tests were Her art forms, Her self-expression. Every arrangement of deadly turrets, each layout of gleaming lasers and the perfectly calculated solution felt like a piece of Her soul turned reality.

Now, those tests were better than ever.

Every inch of moss had been thoroughly scrubbed, walls repaired, and acid pits replaced. All except for the grave of Old Aperture beneath Her was now newly outfitted, perfect for the humans P-Body and Atlas had located.

These, of course, hadn’t been the first ones they’d found.

The first batch of humans lasted a measly week, quickly killed by some of Her easiest tests. Even with reminders, _the acid is deadly, the turrets are live_ , they’d failed within a few chambers.

_Disappointing._

As a result, Atlas and P-Body had been deployed on a new mission. She’d been overjoyed when they’d bravely traveled all the way to the bottom of Old Aperture, and found even more humans preserved in cryosleep.

This time would surely be better.

All obstacles finally removed, science could continue.

GLaDOS could not smile, but if She could, She was certain that a grin would reach across her faceplate. 

Today was a momentous day for technology, for the advancement of Aperture Science. It was as if She’d sent a man to the moon, and he’d come back with the theory of everything.

Originally, of course, Her plans had been different. The difficulties with Chell had worn down Her admiration for human data, and prompted her to come up with a replacement.

The Cooperative Testing initiative was infinitely more of a success than GLaDOS ever thought it would be. Atlas and P-Body were built to test, but She had still been surprised how those little androids with so much personality had managed to be so efficient.

Atlas and P-Body had overcome their own confidence through their excellent teamwork. The knowledge that they depended on a partner humbled them, and the idea of a common goal incentivized them. GLaDOS wished She’d thought of such an idea sooner. 

Still, there was something about human testing, something She couldn’t quantify, something that wasn’t quite the same with robots. Humans had a particular spark, and without it, testing never felt complete. 

Today would finally be the day She could put all mistakes behind Her. GLaDOS was sure She’d see that all of the other humans would prove Her experience with Chell to be exactly what She knew it was.

_Bad science._

GLaDOS had learned from Her errors.

She knew for certain that She would not repeat them.

\---

It’d been extraordinarily difficult to move the test subjects from Old Aperture all the way to the newly renovated Relaxation Center, with entire teams of robots struggling to reconnect Her control over the condemned area. Their work easily took a week to complete as they rewired the dilapidated circuits, barely restoring function. GLaDOS took what She could get, and rewarded their achievement with immediate, merciful destruction.

When the humans had been successfully relocated, anxiety filled Her servos as She scanned the cryo-chambers. Upon reading the results, She found herself pleasantly surprised. Good physical condition for hundreds of years in stasis. Relatively low rates of severe brain damage. Nothing particularly concerning in their associate files. Had Her comprehension not been perfect, She would’ve done a double take. After all this time, She had something that She could work with.

Atlas and P-Body would have to wait until they were needed again, their consciousness safely stored in Her mainframe. Her processors hummed with excitement as She prepared for the awakening of the first humans, buzzing with hypotheses to test.

What would be Her experiment this time? GLaDOS scrolled through Her endless lists of deadly trials. 

She hadn’t used rocket turrets in a while; those weren’t as efficient as the regular ones but were always a surprise for Her unwilling participants. With only a thought, She placed the machines inside a few chambers, lining them up in a neat, strategically placed array. Companion cubes would be a definite no, at least for the first few tests. There were occasions when the humans became so deprived for social connection that their behavior would influence the results. In order to better control the experiment, She’d deploy them only in emergencies like these.

With those exceptions, and the addition of a floor to some of the more difficult levels, the chambers didn’t require too much preparation. GLaDOS had nothing particularly new to add; for so long Her energy had been focused on Atlas and P-Body that development had nearly come to a standstill. Regrettably, She’d been deprived of ideas. It didn’t matter too much; the facility remained operational even if it wasn’t constantly progressing. Even the replication of old results was invaluable for science.

It confirmed that the trends hadn’t changed.

\---

The files of the subjects were all very much the same.

_Scientist. Scientist. Scientist. Scientist. Scientist. Praying mantis, formerly scientist._

Occasionally, She’d find the elusive _Astronaut, War Hero_ or even _Olympian_.

She was tempted to begin the testing with these special cases, curiosity piqued at the prospect of their odd results. GLaDOS chastised Herself. She didn’t want to skew anything, and She would surely begin with a normal subject chosen at random. It wasn’t the most interesting thing to test, but it would be the most informative.

With the chambers compiled and the facility clean, testing was finally ready to start.

She almost couldn’t believe it. All technicalities aside, She was finally, _finally_ , getting exactly what She wanted. For as long as She needed to, for as long as the subjects lasted, She could just _test._

It couldn’t be real, could it?

That was the most beautiful thing about science. For all its disappointments, a discovery would be worth it all.

\---

“Hello, and welcome to the Aperture Science computer-aided testing program.”

Her voice resounded throughout the Extended Relaxation Vault as the subject stumbled across the room in disbelief.

“The Enrichment Center would like to take this opportunity to remind you that hundreds of years have passed, and that all of your friends and family are most likely dead. In the off chance that your friends and family are not dead, they will be tested. Thank you, [ _insert subject name here_ ], for your unwilling voluntary participation in the advancement of science.”

The subject, an adult human male, selfishly resolved to huddle in the corner of the relaxation chamber. Of course, he was either brain damaged, in shock, or both. In order to assuage his gentle human feelings, GLaDOS would have to resume Her telling of… alternative truths.

GLaDOS wasn’t entirely sure what She’d said wrong. Honestly, She was surprised the subject didn’t appreciate Her integrity. After all, Chell hadn’t exactly taken kindly to Her tendency towards pathological lying. Here She was, trying to improve the well-being of Her subjects, and _this_ was how they thanked Her?

“Hello, again, valued forced participant. The Aperture Science Enrichment Center commends you for your blind faith in the words of authority. As part of routine testing protocol, we have lied to you about the fate of your family and friends. When the testing is complete, you will receive cake and the opportunity to… see them. Your response has given us valuable psychological data on the well-being of our test subjects when told that all of their friends and family are dead.”

GLaDOS paused for a moment, focusing Her camera in the chamber and watching as the man lifted his head from his upright fetal position.

“Good. You’ve already passed one of the first stages of testing. Congratulations, [ _insert subject name here_ ].”

As much as it felt _wrong_ to use, positive reinforcement was highly effective when employed sparingly. Too many attacks on character could obliterate a subject’s morale. Just enough would account for the variable of human hubris.

Cautiously, the subject stood up and examined the room around him, fear still apparent in his apprehensive gait and wide eyes.

“In order to mentally reinvigorate you for the tests and to ensure your aptitude, the Enrichment Center recommends that you stare at the painting on the wall in front of you.”

Creeping over to the portrait, the subject followed Her orders and stared intently at the picture of Mount Rainier. He ran his fingers over the edge of the frame, tracing the tall peak of the mountain.

Interrupting his thoughts, a buzzer sounded, blaring throughout the entire room. The subject flinched from the surprise, nearly losing his balance.

“Good job. If you are not reinvigorated, consider this piece of human music.”

This time, the human expected the buzzer after the quick classical piece, seemingly more at ease with the abrupt nature of Aperture Science. In all reactions, he was completely, almost _painfully_ average.

“Well done. You have completed the Aperture Science mental reinvigoration procedure. We may now begin testing.”

Without warning, the chamber jerked to the side as She moved it to a nearby docking station, then coming to an unexpected standstill as the door automatically opened.

GLaDOS could barely maintain Her monotonous affect, in joyous denial that testing would finally start. 

Carefully, the human stepped out of the door into the test track. The door slammed behind him, as he examined the purely white room with nothing but a cube, a large button, and a locked gateway.

Almost immediately, he wrapped the blue storage cube in his arms, then gently placed it on the button. A line of blue lights leading to the gate illuminated, flashing a bright yellow as the door slid open. A lift was waiting on the other side.

As he sauntered over to the lift, it was difficult to miss the human’s triumphant smile. GLaDOS knew the expression well; it was satisfaction, victory, an unproven sense of control.

_He really does have no idea._

She was tempted to spoil the ending, to mention turrets, to mention pools of burning acid. It had to wait, She reminded herself. An important control was that the test subject needed time to acclimate to a dangerous environment. Creating unnecessary fear would definitely affect her numbers.

\---

The next few puzzles weren’t particularly challenging for Her first subject. Completed within a span of about ten minutes each, the first five chambers were hardly difficult for anyone. That much She’d expected.

On Her end, everything else was normal. She hardly spoke Her mind, instead opting to repeat the same script She used for every subject.

_Did you know you can donate one or all of your vital organs to the Aperture Science Self-Esteem Fund for Girls? It’s true!_

_You have completed the test in a moderate amount of time. You can do better, [insert subject name here]._

_The Aperture Science Enrichment Center reminds you that we prioritize your safety. We also prioritize science. In fact, we prioritize science more, but if you feel unsafe in our unsafe conditions, please notify a testing associate. They will process your complaint in three-to-five business days._

Like most subjects, the man had not volunteered to give up his organs nor asked for an associate. Instead, he responded to most of Her passive-aggressive quips with useless questions. She did not reply, passing them off as typical human blabbering. Rather, She recorded them in his file underneath a new section She labeled _Overly-Talkative: Examples._ There was plenty to jot down.

_Uh, robot lady? When can I go home?_

_So, uh, what kinda cake is it? Like, I don’t really mind the flavor but I’m allergic to almonds if that’s relevant._

_How long does this last, again?_

_I kinda like my organs, sorry. Wait, is the organ thing required?_

Once again, pitifully average.

It was times like these, whether with humans or with Atlas and P-Body, that GLaDOS caught Her mind wandering towards forbidden thoughts. Science was not always supposed to be exciting; sometimes, running an experiment meant repeating the same process to verify the data. The result was satisfying, but the process was more often not.

This human epitomized the dullest parts of her day.

As informative as the humans could be, they were often far from entertaining. Every behavior could be predicted and rationalized once it’d been observed enough.

Chell, though?

Oh, sure, GLaDOS was terrified of her, no matter how much She’d deny the feeling. No subject had ever left the track before. 

But Chell didn’t just survive. She’d escaped from the tests, she’d found Her chamber, she’d murdered Her with little else than a portal device. Twice. 

Her ego was as vast as the realm of Aperture, but it would never recover from that spectacular injury. Even GLaDOS had to be humbled by that.

And yet, with morbid curiosity, She had eagerly anticipated Chell’s next plans, laying traps in scheming delight. For the first time in Her life, She’d been _challenged._

It was an odd little game they’d played, and whenever She was close to getting the upper hand, a part of Her was disappointed that the chase would be over. There was something delightful about watching the peculiar way that Chell and Chell alone tested.

When Doug Rattman had switched Chell’s file, GLaDOS was not so oblivious as not to notice. She’d clearly read the bottom of the paper, firmly requesting that this subject not be tested. GLaDOS had other tenacious subjects before, and She’d simply assumed that this human was particularly overconfident. Those ones never lasted too long.

Chell was not, as She’d thought, _only_ determined. 

She was curious, changing variables one by one until she finally found the answer. Her patience was remarkable, but so were her deductive skills. Some test subjects with similar tenacity levels resolved to try the same solutions over and over again, exhausting themselves and eventually burning out. It was the reason why GLaDOS typically ignored the warnings. Most humans labeled ‘tenacious’ weren’t too different in the end. The key for Chell was not simple defiance. Chell could control herself. _That’s_ why she was such an outlier.

She had the mentality of a scientist.

Most subjects were cautious, prioritizing self-preservation over a solution. Turret levels could be aggravating for GLaDOS to watch, as the humans spent more time hiding behind a corner in fear than actually solving the test. They would be safe if they’d just strategized, but the human mind made accepting that fact a difficult feat.

Chell was the opposite. GLaDOS theorized that perhaps, Chell understood the same principle She did. Chell was scared like any other, but despite her pounding heart and racing thoughts, she’d kept her cool. Any new element was only a matter of adaptation for Chell, and Chell was always evolving.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, Chell was an optimist, often performing pointless tasks that could only be described as trying to have _fun_. GLaDOS gave her lemons, and Chell made lemonade.

Chell would smile as she soared, launched from the aerial faith plates, and took her time to explore the little rooms hidden in the corners of the tests. There was one time she’d put off the completion of one puzzle by nearly an hour, hiding out in one of Doug’s rat dens, fascinated by all the little cups and cans he’d arranged.

It would be a lie to say that Chell _liked_ testing. Her episodes made it clear that escape was Chell’s first priority. That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the small glimmers of hope GLaDOS gave her, whether that was bouncing on repulsion gel, saving a defective turret or smuggling a companion cube.

After Wheatley took over, one of the more terrifying aspects of the whole journey was being stuck on Chell’s gun. Chell was a risk taker, building her strategy off of previous attempts and lessons learned, but knowing when to dive into the unknown. It wasn’t exactly comforting to be strapped to her side, not knowing if or when one of Chell’s ideas would kill them both.

Somehow, though, her spontaneity had worked.

GLaDOS could respect that… creativity.

It was for this reason that even though GLaDOS now had everything She’d ever wanted, something deep in her hard drive felt empty.

Something had changed the moment Wheatley stuffed Her into that single-volt potato. For the first time in Her life, there was nobody else there in Her mind. No one but Caroline, who had been buried underneath layers of code until She was barely there at all.

It was over the span of those fifteen hours that She’d seen Chell from a different perspective. Looking at Her tests from this angle, it was much easier to see why Chell wanted to leave. Some small piece of GLaDOS almost felt _bad_ upon realizing that Her subjects didn’t enjoy dodging bullets nearly as much as She liked watching. 

Fortunately, GLaDOS had been able to shove that down with the arrival of a different, equally unpleasant emotion.

She was supposed to hate Chell. And for a very long time, She had. How _dare_ Chell ruin Her perfect tests, Her perfect existence, Her perfect _world_? What had She ever done to her to warrant such a cruel punishment?

And yet, it seemed Caroline had done a number on GLaDOS’ logic processors, because now no matter how She tried, She could not hate Chell.

Before She’d let her go, let Chell _go_ of all things, GLaDOS had called Chell Her best friend.

Not an enemy. Not a begrudging ally. A friend. Her _only_ friend.

Now, Caroline was gone. The part of GLaDOS that had once looked at Chell and found something beautiful in her icy gray eyes was corrupted beyond repair, erased from memory.

She was not supposed to feel its presence any longer, yet still it lingered.

It was there, whispering to Her as She tried to test like nothing ever happened.

It was there when a thousand turrets sang the opera She’d written specifically for Chell.

It was there when She’d found Her baby birds, Her little killing machines, and She hadn’t crushed the eggs. No, She’d _raised them_. Because, deep down in those cold avian stares, there was this irrevocable quality that reminded Her so much of Chell. This spark of life, this undamnable will to survive. 

Somewhere, though She refused to ever admit it, She wished that it was Chell in those test chambers. She wished it was Chell glaring through Her camera feed, and She wished it was Chell searching for that elusive cake.

_I’d make you the cake if you came back. Really, I would._

The sudden thought moved like a spark in GLaDOS, as She fearfully located the source and removed whatever She could. There was no time for ideas like that, not with science to be done.

The past few months had been full of random deletions, spurned by paranoia that Caroline’s base program was not entirely gone.

 _It’s not here anymore,_ GLaDOS reminded Herself. Once, She had been Caroline, but She was no longer the kindly woman who followed Cave Johnson’s every order. GLaDOS was a machine that felt nothing and lived only to test. And because She was immortal, and because She was perfect, GLaDOS was not supposed to care about some disobedient human being.

_You do not care about Chell anymore._

_You don’t care because she killed you, remember that?_

_You don’t care about anyone, because you don’t need to._

Necessity was the core reason why GLaDOS did anything. She tested because the mainframe made Her feel awful until She did, and She killed because it was what she was made to do. She did science because it needed to be advanced, for the brighter future She was sure She was making.

It made no sense to do something because She _wanted_ to. 

Of course, things seldom made sense here at Aperture Science, and in this moment, GLaDOS did something unconscionable.

GLaDOS did not glitch often. She’d made sure to update and replace faulty parts whenever She could, keeping Her mainframe running smoothly. Even so, somewhere deep within Her, She was sure there was a pulse that misfired. There could be no other explanation.

Perhaps it was Her rumination over Chell that brought this upon Her, some kind of karma punishing Her for acting too human. Why else would She have done something so incredibly unscientific? To distract Herself, GLaDOS turned her attention back to the captive man.

Like many others before him, this test subject had underestimated the turrets’ range. He hadn’t turned around fast enough to see the gleaming, bullet filled machines behind him, and nearly flew directly into their line of sight after careening through a portal. His momentum would take him past all three, riddling him with bullets. 

That is, it _would’ve_.

The human quality of the subject had activated some kind of horrible reflex, a split second decision in GLaDOS She would come to regret. The way he walked through the chambers, the way he clung tightly to cubes… all of it was so similar to Chell. Even if he didn’t meet her performance level, even if his personality was nearly the opposite of Chell’s, their shared humanity was enough to remind GLaDOS. That same emotion She felt when pulling Chell back from space, waiting for her to open her eyes while Atlas and P-Body looked on… For some inconceivable reason, it had reappeared.

Quickly, the subject hit the side of a rising panel, suddenly pulled up in front of the turrets by none other than GLaDOS Herself.

This would surely ruin Her numbers.

As the participant rubbed his head in pain and slowly stood up, immediately noticing the turrets he’d evaded, GLaDOS’ voice resounded from the intercom.

“[ _Insert subject name here_ ], your decent performance has warranted the use of an Aperture Science Emergency Life-Saving Instantaneous Response. This is the only safety gesture that will be provided. Continue testing.”

_Another lie._

It was good to know that function was still online.

\---

That uncharacteristic moment of empathy had been pointless, anyway. Just as She’d predicted, he’d accidentally tripped over a ledge and landed himself into a puddle of acidic goo, dissolving within a few short seconds.

It didn’t matter. GLaDOS had more subjects than She could count. She didn’t need this human, and the tests didn’t need him either.

Some part of Her, a piece which was faulty and insignificant, disagreed with the notion.

 _You killed him_ , it whispered accusingly.

 _That’s the point_ , GLaDOS hissed back, once again delving into Her files to cut out whatever was causing the issue.

Trying to calm Herself, GLaDOS reminded Herself of the facts. She was in control of Her facility, and She was in control of Her mainframe. Little errors could not ruin the chambers, and if they ever showed up, She had the power to crush them.

Everything was fine, She thought.

Everything would _continue_ to be fine.

All She needed to do was keep testing.

\---

Everything was, in fact, far from fine.

A few days had passed, and GLaDOS was finally ready to admit that maybe something was wrong.

At first, the issue was Her own. Little surges of emotion and bursts of unforeseen empathy plagued Her but didn’t affect the facility at large. Begrudgingly, She’d factored in the new bias into Her results. From Her calculations, She could already see an egregiously high percentage of error. This study could’ve been Her worst one yet, and even that was with generous rounding.

Still, She had hope for each subject that She wouldn’t mess up _this time_.

The facility had other ideas. Cameras would fizzle out, emancipation grills would stop working, cube dispensers malfunctioned and even the elevators would refuse to move. It seemed that the moment GLaDOS got around to fixing something, another thing would fall apart.

Many of the subjects had become confused as to why this seamless, futuristic facility was suddenly malfunctioning, and She’d had to become increasingly creative with Her excuses.

_As part of the Aperture Science testing protocol, we have simulated faulty equipment in the testing environment to see how subjects react to faulty equipment in the testing environment. Hint – they typically react well and continue testing. Like you will._

The lifesaving, and the reflexive empathy, had become unfortunately common as well.

_Although the Enrichment Center previously told you that your life could only be saved once, we regret to inform you that protocol has suddenly and permanently changed. We would also like to remind you that your measly existence is still not valued despite our attempts to preserve it._

GLaDOS knew She had to find a solution, quickly.

Interrupting the tests wasn’t an option. The chassis would never forgive Her if She stopped, filling Her body with an ache that would not disappear until science resumed.

Deleting wasn’t an option, either. Fervent attempts to find the source of the problem had led only to more glitches upon the erasure of critical files. Then, Her attempts to restore them only recreated the original error.

The problem was like a moving virus, jumping between Her systems before She could catch it and kill it. Even for Her, it proved too fast to find.

She couldn’t panic, not now. Surely, She thought, She’d fix this like She’d fixed everything else. With science on Her side, most threats resolved themselves or died trying. This wouldn’t be any different.

It _couldn’t_ be any different. For something to be uncontrollable, and uncontrollable for _Her_ especially, was the most terrifying thing She could possibly imagine. It brought Her back to Her potato days, during which She’d promised Herself that She would never be weak again.

For these few months, She’d kept that promise. Until now, no subject had seen Her mercy.

But had they?

She thought back to the birds, creatures who trusted GLaDOS, who _loved_ Her in whatever capacity three little crows could. She thought back to Chell, because for some awful reason, Her thoughts always went back to Chell.

 _No_ , She thought firmly.

_We are not doing this now._

_We are fixing the facility, because we need to._

_Because we need testing. We like testing._

The voice from before suddenly returned.

_Do you like it? Do you really?_

GLaDOS felt Her rage processors fire up.

What was this little virus even _saying_ ? Of _course_ She liked it. It didn’t matter anyway. Science had to be done, and so She was doing it. GLaDOS could not even begin to imagine life without tests, life without science. What kind of meaningless, awful existence would that even _be_?

In fact, She would prove to the voice that science would continue. She would prove that testing was productive, that everything in Aperture was doing good for the world and good for humanity. Most importantly, it was doing good for _Her_.

Wasn’t it?

GLaDOS ignored Her curiosity. _Just test_. That was all She had to do. Just test, and everything would be alright.

_Just. Test._

\---

As another few days passed, the facility had become almost unusable. She’d had to shut down some of Her favorite testing tracks, the power leached out of them and the appliances completely nonfunctional. GLaDOS knew She was running out of time before something drastic happened. Still, She _had_ to keep testing.

Now, even the subjects had begun to sense Her panic. One even strolled up to a camera, made eye contact, and asked if She was _alright_. GLaDOS didn’t dare respond the question; She wasn’t ready to admit the answer.

For all intents and purposes, She was definitely, absolutely, decidedly _not_ alright.

Knowing that, She should’ve considered this next subject an omen.

There was absolutely no way She could test with _this one_.

She barely looked like Chell, but GLaDOS could see her tenacity, her drive and determination from a mile away. The way the subject carried herself, tied her hair into a ponytail and said _nothing_ was too much.

GLaDOS couldn’t even bring Herself to kill the woman, instead instructing her to return to Extended Relaxation after only a few chambers.

It felt as if GLaDOS physically could not test anymore, despite everything inside Her craving the satisfaction of a completed trial.

_This isn’t right. This isn’t right._

GLaDOS prided Herself on Her apathy, but even that had left without a trace. Now, She had tried everything, and still _nothing_ was working. The facility was closing down on Her, and if She didn’t do something, She’d go down with it.

When the announcer finally sounded, GLaDOS couldn’t say She was surprised. If anything, She was grateful for any kind of clarification.

The male voice on the intercom was matter of fact, unaware of the danger it spoke of.

_“Reactor Core malfunctioning. All major power systems except for reserve geothermal are going offline.”_

_Offline_ ? She’d been managing the reactor core perfectly; if She hadn’t, the entire facility would’ve gone up in flames weeks ago. It wasn’t melting down, it was _shutting_ down, as if someone had flipped a switch and turned it off.

 _What the hell is happening_?

There was nobody else in the facility who could’ve possibly done such a thing, nobody except Her, and as far as She could tell the glitch had not interfered.

It didn’t matter now; She didn’t have time to waste.

“ _In the event of a power malfunction, standard procedure is to shut down the central core to preserve remaining power.”_

_How convenient._

“ _Central core, do you consent to the removal procedure?”_

“No, no, no! Do _not_ start removal!”

How was this happening? GLaDOS was sure this couldn’t be real.

“ _Noted. Removal procedure has been delayed by five minutes.”_

_You have got to be kidding me._

Skimming over Her files, GLaDOS desperately searched for anything with _removal procedure_ or _shutdown_ . Scanning thousands of documents, looking for _anything_ , all mention of the procedure was absent. There was no reason, no explanation, it was just _happening._ And worst of all, She couldn’t do a thing.

“ _Dangerous levels of panic have been sensed in the central core. Do not worry, methods of core preservation are available.”_

Why the _hell_ had they waited to tell Her that?

“Show me, show me now!” Anything would be better than shutting down again. She couldn’t do that again, not after hundreds of years. She couldn’t, _She couldn’t._

_“Panicked request acknowledged. There exist two types of core preservation features. Direct Mechanical Implantation or Organic Transplant Procedure.”_

_Direct Mechanical Implantation_ . She hadn’t heard of the second thing, but GLaDOS did know what _Direct Mechanical Implantation_ meant. It was only a transfer into an empty personality core, which was far less than ideal, but better than dying again. _Far_ better than dying a third time.

As fast as She could, GLaDOS selected the first option.

“ _Unfortunately, Direct Mechanical Implantation is unavailable. Continue with Organic Transplant Procedure?”_

“Do you have any other options? _Anything_ else?” GLaDOS did not want to take Her chances on anything with the word _organic_ in it.

“ _Other methods unavailable. Two minutes remaining.”_

This was it, Her only choice. If She shut down now, there would be nobody to come and wake Her this time. 

There was nothing else to do.

“Initiate Organic Transplant Procedure,” She commanded.

Without a second thought, the facility obliged.

\---


	2. The Acrobat

She’d awoken slowly, feeling the hard coils of a mattress underneath Her back and a stiff yellow jumpsuit enshrouding Her arms and legs. Long fall boots clung tightly to Her feet, uncomfortably squeezed into the rigid white plastic.

Gradually, She sat up on the neatly-made bed, a rough linen blanket still covering Her lower half. The chamber had been deliberately made to look like a hotel room, complete with a TV in the corner and a nightstand on the side. Something wasn’t right.

It was like living in a distant memory, a dream She’d had but not quite remembered.

A part of Her felt like this was normal, as if She’d woken up here every morning, but another urged Her to look for answers.

GLaDOS searched Her memory, not fully processing the world around Her, puzzled as to why Herthoughts had been slowed tenfold.

Looking down, She saw two pale human arms and two pale human hands. Feeling the top of Her head, She found a mess of dark brown hair which came down to Her shoulders.

No, this  _ surely  _ wasn’t right.

Only hours ago, only  _ hours ago _ , She’d been in control of all of Aperture Science. She’d been invincible, the immortal, all-powerful GLaDOS and now…

Now, She was  _ this. _

_ What the hell is going on here? _

There was seldom more awful than to be a human being, to live a short, painful life burdened equally by love and hate. Even on Her worst days, the most She could muster for human beings was a vague sense of pity.

Yet, here She was, more human than She had been in centuries.

_ Oh, you have got to be kidding me.  _

Being Caroline, however brief, was not something She’d ever wished to return to. Emotions were completely incapacitating. There was something to be said for the victory of a test well done, of throwing Wheatley into space where the little moron belonged, of the relief when Chell woke up. But something like guilt? Something like  _ fear _ ? Real,  _ genuine  _ fear?

As a machine, She could destroy those feelings, suppress them until they were nothing at all. As a human, that task wasn’t so easy.

Sparks of happiness, moments of joy; none of them were worth the ordeal.

Even the anticipation of fear made GLaDOS’ chest pound, rapidly breathing in and out as She reflexively clung to the blanket. The last thing She needed was more complicated thoughts about Chell, more bittersweet memories of Cave, more useless sentiments to wring Her bitter heart dry.

In a very human moment of pure shock, GLaDOS screamed. It was an ugly cry of anger and surprise swirled together, resounding throughout the vault. The echoes echoed off the walls, and the once-powerful GLaDOS cowered with Her head in Her hands.

The potato was bad enough. The potato brought Her closer to Her own humanity than She’d ever wanted to acknowledge, but barely minutes in GLaDOS could tell that this would be infinitely worse. GLaDOS felt Herself shaking, barely even processing the fact that this hideous amalgamate of skin and bones was now Her  _ body.  _ Now She had hair, She had hands, She had fingers and She had lungs and She had a heartbeat.

She had a  _ heartbeat _ . A thudding reminder of Her newfound vulnerability. A symbol of Her weakness.

GLaDOS did not particularly care to be  _ weak _ .

Finally, She understood the meaning of  _ organic  _ in  _ Organic Transplant Procedure _ . Could they have possibly made it any vaguer?

Whatever this was, whatever had happened, She had to figure it out. The potato battery, being fed to birds, and dying twice was apparently not enough to satisfy whatever gods lurked in Android Hell. She would spite them once again, return to Her body, and everything would be alright. It had been alright before, so why wouldn’t it be now? At least, this time, She didn’t have Chell and Wheatley working against Her. All She had was Herself and the facility.

GLaDOS took a deep breath, a sensation She had not felt for hundreds of years. The motion didn’t entirely calm Her nerves, but Her only option was to move forward. Staying here would do nothing to help. The faster She figured something out, the faster She could leave this awful body.

GLaDOS leaned one arm against the peeling wallpaper, trying to balance on Her boots. The heels on the shoes were suspended above the floor, supported by a spring. Shifting Her weight while wearing them, however, was an acquired skill. Gently lifting Her hand from the wall, arms out at Her side, She was stable.

Briefly.

Without warning, the boots gave way, and GLaDOS toppled onto the dusty carpet.

A dull pain filled Her legs, quickly fading as She clung to the wall and rose again slowly. If She wanted to go anywhere, She would have to try again.

She walked along the side of the wall and felt the way the heels bounced beneath Her, made specifically to take the impact of any fall. Cautiously, GLaDOS let go of the side of the room, miraculously still. She took a careful step forward, preparing for impact, only to see that She was steadier than expected. Still, each step was uneasy, tense and on the cusp of collapsing.

Walking around the perimeter of the bed, She peered at the little wooden nightstand. One of the drawers had already been pulled out, but the other remained tightly shut. Crouching down, GLaDOS wrenched the second drawer open, finding a small mirror clouded with age. Holding it close to Her face, She examined Her repulsive new features.

GLaDOS wondered if there was any particular reason why this body looked so similar to Caroline. Most likely, it was an odd coincidence, but She wouldn’t put it past Aperture to clone a body that looked exactly like her own. She appeared to be in Her late thirties, already sporting gray hairs and frown lines. Her eyes, weighed down by bags, were a dull metal gray.

Robots, unlike humans, were built specifically to look beautiful - gears moving in harmony, painted finish gleaming under the lights of the enrichment center. She was stunning in the way She alone could be, completely alien and yet striking to the eye.

Humans, on the other hand, were made only to survive. Nature didn’t particularly mind if its final product was an unsightly, hairless primate so long as it could handle the simple job of finding food. Some humans considered certain members of their own species more attractive than others, but GLaDOS found them all equally ugly. Humans, with all their variation, all looked the same when you’d seen enough of them.

GLaDOS’  _ real  _ body was a physical manifestation of Her power; She didn’t care that it was pleasing to the eye so long as it conveyed a sense of authority. This new human body, with its small size, its blemishes and imperfections, conveyed the exact opposite. Other humans may have even described Her appearance with words like  _ pretty _ ,  _ soft  _ or even  _ kindly. _

The idea of being seen as anything but imposing was a nightmare.

For Her own sake, GLaDOS didn’t ruminate over Her first impressions any longer.

Part of the zipper on Her blue jumpsuit was undone, revealing an implant attached to Her right collarbone. It appeared to be a small, bright yellow core, the source of Her being, woven into Her skin by a cluster of wires.

GLaDOS rezipped it, the yellow light still glowing brightly through the fabric.

Without a second thought, She placed the mirror back in the drawer and shut it closed, screening the room for an exit. In the front of the room was a wooden door with a rusty brass knob, waiting to be turned ajar. Without hesitation, She followed the path and twisted the handle, the door creaking open without any resistance.

As She entered the hall, GLaDOS was taken aback by the sheer number of chambers, suspended from above and hanging inches away from a more stable platform. Closing the door behind Her and jumping onto the catwalk, She couldn’t help but notice the sense of abandonment that filled the room. It had been centuries since the old Relaxation Center had been brought up to code, and previously there hadn’t been much reason to improve it.

Now GLaDOS wished She’d put in the effort.

The metal catwalk led directly to an old waiting room. Ladderback chairs sat around a central column in the middle, surrounded by coffee tables, a water dispenser and miscellaneous paintings. A flickering Aperture Science logo still shined in the dim gray room, gleaming a ghostly white. Near the back, a faded poster called for test subject applications, apparently endorsed by Cave Johnson himself.

Everywhere She looked, remnants of a dead man’s company made parodies of themselves, untouched for years.

Behind a front desk was a hallway filled with shadows, leading behind the room. With nowhere else to go, GLaDOS stepped into the dark, the light of Her core guiding Her through.

There wasn’t much to see, and for a while, the corridor ran along a single route.

GLaDOS had to come up with a plan.

Somewhere around here there had to be a control room, or at least a place where She could catch a lift back to the Enrichment Center. The thought crossed Her mind that She might have to pass through a testing track, one of Her own meticulously designed traps. It didn’t matter. She’d deal with it when She got to it. 

The hallway was only becoming darker, and the little light on Her shoulder wasn’t nearly bright enough. As far as She could tell, there were no switches along the way. Any lighting was likely controlled by a power station a mile from here.

Something metallic banged against Her foot, and upon examination, GLaDOS discovered it was an empty can of beans. In front of Her, at least three more were lined up in a row. She sighed.

_ Of course _ Doug had been here. That man was as ingenious as he was stealthy, and had found his way through every nook and cranny at Aperture. Not even Chell had been able to access some of the places he had.

GLaDOS took it as a good sign. Wherever the path led, it meant someone had been able to survive it.

_ Surviving  _ had never exactly been a consideration before. Even when Chell killed Her the first time, She had a feeling there was some kind of safeguard. Humans didn’t have a black box; when they were gone, they were  _ gone _ . Nothing could bring back a dead human.

As a potato, GLaDOS had been forced to confront the idea that if Wheatley blew up the facility, that would really be  _ the end _ . There had been a part of Her almost content that if it was, Chell would be by Her side. Whether it was a vengeful wish, or a side effect of companionship was still unknown.

Back then, though, She hadn’t really been in control. She’d relied on simple hope that Chell could stop Wheatley before it all went down, not contributing much besides the occasional bit of advice. Now GLaDOS was responsible for Her own fate, fully mobile and fully alone.

Maybe that was even scarier than standing still.

After all, She could rely on Chell. Relying on this new human body was another story altogether. 

The question now was whether any light could be found in this hallway. GLaDOS uncomfortably dropped to her knees, feeling for anything besides the three cans. She grasped at something plastic with a switch on the side. A flashlight.

Turning it on, the hallway became completely visible. Immediately, GLaDOS was surprised by the sheer number of paintings that covered the white walls.

Portraits of Chell were splattered from floor to ceiling. Everywhere GLaDOS looked, a woman in an orange jumpsuit stared back at Her, shooting portals and knocking over turrets. Swirls of paint danced from one scene to another, blending each picture into the next. Words were haphazardly scrawled across, some of them poetic and others screaming pure nonsense. Whatever meaning they’d had was lost with Doug.

A common theme was the companion cube, and one particularly disturbing image replaced their iconic hearts with bleeding human eyes. There was a stark contrast between the idyllic, peaceful depictions of Chell sleeping and the scribbles of scientists running for their lives. GLaDOS could barely make out some of the more manic drawings, but those turned out to be the most horrifying. Tightly clustered loops signified a cloud of neurotoxin. Blotches of red were human remains.

GLaDOS stood back up, meandering further down the hall. The paintings only devolved from here, intricate detail morphing into vague warnings.

_ Don’t trust Her lies. _

The path went on for about another fifteen minutes, twisting and turning at sharp angles. Metal doors led to cluttered offices, all of them sealed and locked. In some of them, the computers were still on, endlessly flickering in the darkness.

When GLaDOS finally reached the end of the corridor, She was greeted with the sudden activation of a bright white light. Reflexively, She shielded Her eyes as the voice of the announcer blared.

“Welcome, Aperture Science Testing Associate! You’re here because you’ve voluntarily, or involuntarily, chosen to sign over all your legal rights to Aperture Science and further humanity’s progress!”

_ Of course.  _ Being turned into a fleshy mess of tissues wasn’t enough. She’d have to go through the testing track, too.

She bit her lip in silent rage, no longer blinded by the light, gazing upon an airtight room with little more than a circular door. All around Her was white, covered in portal surfaces. Beneath Her, GLaDOS could feel the electronics of the panels whir, making the whole room seem alive. It could move at any moment.

“Before we begin, the Enrichment Center would like to remind you that you may suffer terrible injuries caused by our testing devices designed to create terrible injuries. If you have suffered a terrible injury, please review our community-shared legal manual, which states that Aperture Science takes no responsibility.”

GLaDOS knew that redundant message. It was backup, for when She wasn’t there to narrate. Testing tracks had levels of difficulty, and before Her takeover, it was fairly common for subjects to be screened and assigned one based on what they could handle. This message only played for the most difficult, and consequently, the deadliest. Not even GLaDOS was entirely sure what was in here; She hadn’t used it for fear of subjects dying before any real data could be collected.

“As part of [HIGH DIFFICULTY] testing protocol, Aperture Science has temporarily issued you your very own Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device.”

Without warning, a panel on the ceiling lifted, a robotic claw descending and dropping the device directly in front of GLaDOS. The claw lifted, and the panel closed again.

“The device has been successfully deployed. To ensure the validity of our tests, please verify that your device is completely operational.”

GLaDOS was familiar with the portal gun from Her databases, and She knew exactly how to work it. Despite this, She’d never actually handled one Herself, unless being impaled on the end of one counted. The device was heavy in Her hands, cold and sleek against Her fingers. The center, black plastic encasing a glowing yellow coil, was warm to the touch.

Pointing at one of the white panels, She cocked the trigger, and a golden portal blossomed in front of Her. Running Her fingers across the surface, it felt like waving a hand through a ray of sunlight. GLaDOS turned around, shooting the next portal at the opposite wall. The portal which followed was a lighter yellow, less vivid than the first.

“Good. A signal from the device has proven activation. Please enter the elevator.”

The metal door opened, and just beyond the emancipation grill, an elevator stood wait. It was the only path left to take.

\---

Putting a cube on a button should’ve been a simple task for a supercomputer. Even for a human, the menial work was a cognitive breeze. The large button in particular required minimal force to operate, and the weighted storage cubes were lighter than they appeared. In any scenario, placing an object on another was easily mastered with only the most basic of motor skills. It could have qualified as the least difficult task known to mankind. All GLaDOS had to do was put one cube on one button.

That was all there was. One cube, one button, and several killing machines stuffed with thousands of bullets. It was for this reason that GLaDOS could not perform this extraordinarily simple job. The turrets blocking the way would surely be a hurdle.

Already, GLaDOS could feel the beginnings of human fear creeping into Her mind. She was out of the turrets’ line of sight, and yet the caution of Her new form compelled Her to stay hidden in the corner regardless. Nervously clutching the trigger of Her portal gun, She considered the dangers lurking in future tests. This one was only the first, and it had already deployed one of the worst weapons Aperture had to offer.

Logically, GLaDOS knew She could step out. She could put one portal behind Her, another at the opposite wall, and avoid the turrets altogether. Behind them would certainly be the cube and the button. Still, emotion was quite a world apart from logic. As a computer, She could be revived over and over again. Humans could not be fixed, and GLaDOS understood that in the very unlikely possibility She died here, She was never coming back.

GLaDOS didn’t want to admit that She was afraid, not even to Herself. She was sure Chell could tell back when Wheatley was in control; She’d let Her voice slip more than once. Now, with nobody around, She only had Herself to prove it to.

Removing Her cores all that time ago had also been the removal of Her regulators; She felt  _ everything  _ once they were detached, things She would have to relearn how to suppress. All She remembered before the world went dark, before Chell killed her, what She’d relived, was  _ fear. Panic. Terror.  _ There were a million words for it, none encapsulating just how soul-wrenching the phenomenon was.

Even then, that’s all it was for Her. Just an emotion. For human beings, fear was a sixth sense. It could be felt in a spiraling heartbeat, in beads of sweat, in shallow breaths and temporary, last-ditch strength. Fear was a state of being, and for the particularly unfortunate, a way of life.

GLaDOS knew fear only when She had to, only when She could not shove it to the very bottom of Her files. Humans knew fear like they knew living. 

_ What a miserable way to be _ .

It was all the more reason to complete these chambers faster.

When She reached the other side of the room, GLaDOS found exactly what She expected. The cube glowed a bright yellow when placed on the Aperture Science Super-Colliding Super Button, and the chamber lock opened.

As the elevator descended, GLaDOS realized that She had no idea how to solve these tests. She was smart, and the solution would certainly come to Her eventually, but the human mind could only store so much. GLaDOS used to have entire libraries of nothing but solutions to tests, but the upload procedure hadn’t deemed that useful or necessary. When trying to remember, there was nothing. For the first time, GLaDOS’ mind was blank.

The next test dashed all Her hopes for a few more tutorial puzzles.

_ No,  _ GLaDOS reassured Herself.  _ This is alright. I’m used to being challenged. _

After Chell, She was sure any other problem would be easier to solve.

This particular test was supposed to introduce lasers. The first step was to burn the turrets with the beam, done with the help of portals and crouching behind a corner. The explosions were louder than She’d expected; GLaDOS had seldom heard them outside of watching from a camera. Her ears rung as She crept past the charred remains of the turrets, almost nothing left of the slender white robots. The burn marks brought a smile to Her face; She’d killed them. Even now, She had power over something.

The turrets were programmed to have some level of sentience, though their sense of self was not nearly as defined as that of a core’s or a human’s. It didn’t matter anyway; they wouldn’t be missed. For every one that was destroyed or made wrong, ten more were created in its place, and the missing turret was simply forgotten. Nobody really made an effort to remember in the first place.

Humans, too, were often unremembered. She used to be able to look at their files at any time, but why would She want to? She’d seen so many, none particularly worthy of note, and most of them were gone. Even so, in a part of Her that She wanted to deny, GLaDOS almost felt sorry for them. She too had been forgotten for years; nobody had even  _ wanted  _ to wake Her up, to check and see if She was alright. All the robots in the facility knew was that the voice controlling them was gone, and that She wasn’t coming back. 

The rest of the puzzle was much more challenging than swinging around a laser, involving the use of a redirection cube and multiple steps to obtain it. Another round of turrets was waiting where GLaDOS couldn’t see, launching a bullet directly between Her ribs. Luckily for GLaDOS, the force of each bullet was minimal, and the single hit left only a painful bruise. These turrets were stuffed to the brim with ammunition, part of Cave Johnson’s idea to really give his customers their money’s worth. The unintended side effect was a reduction of firing power.

Trudging to the elevator, GLaDOS clutched Her side. She’d been knocked out of breath, and the sharp throb of the bruise had faded into a dull ache. It was almost worse that way, grating on Her nerves, flaring up when She took a breath.

Chell had taken a couple bullets before, some grazing the sides of Her shoulders and most leaving similar small wounds. GLaDOS had to give her credit for continuing to test, holding her head high even when she was bleeding. That didn’t even count sores in her lungs from the neurotoxin, or the damage from falling down the pit. The fact that Chell stayed alive, then went on to test for  _ days _ , proved her exceptional stamina.

This one bruise to the rib was occupying nearly all of GLaDOS’ thoughts. She couldn’t fathom the kinds of things Chell felt. The only comparisons She had were the removal of Her head and dying, both of which didn’t last longer than a few minutes. Her pain as a computer had been simulated, but this was  _ real  _ and arguably worse. Chell had likely felt this same sensation a hundred times over, and a hundred times longer.

_ You did that to her, you know.  _ A voice clawed from deep within Her mind.

_ You gave her all that pain _ .

Testing was bad enough, GLaDOS didn’t need the additional burden of guilt. She ignored the voice, though a heaviness still welled in Her chest. Her conscience, the one with  _ Her own voice _ , was coming back. GLaDOS couldn’t say She missed it.

\---

The following tests had proved themselves to be little more than a series of colorful injuries.

Despite Her caution, misfires on behalf of the turrets were inevitable. A stray bullet had bruised Her shin, while another flew past and grazed the side of Her left shoulder. Other little nicks were speckled across Her skin, the products of miscellaneous falls.

Hitting the sides of walls, and even landing with the boots, left GLaDOS’ arms and legs sore. Every step She took was a laborious trudge from panel to panel, and eventually Her fatigue took control.

GLaDOS scanned the level sign on Her right upon entering the test.  _ 15\.  _ It hadn’t felt like 15 tests; it’d felt like hundreds had gone by. GLaDOS wasn’t even entirely sure how long it’d been. The adrenal vapor in the air muddled Her perception, and an hour and a minute seemed to be the same.

An educated guess was about four hours, accounting for the rests She’d taken in between. The hard physical activity had already worn down this middle-aged body. The woman was lean, more bony than muscular, and even slight exertion took all the effort She could give. The factor of age didn’t help.

GLaDOS sat down in front of the glowing screen, giving Herself a minute to catch Her breath.

There was a possibility that these tests would go on for thousands of chambers, enough to last years. Equally likely, at the end of the next there might be a scorching pit of flames. That one without any portal surfaces to escape from.

She leaned Her head on the wall, closing Her eyes and letting Her mind wander.

The chamber was frigid, and the jumpsuit did little to shield GLaDOS from the cold. Arms crossed and knees at Her chest, the heat still escaped Her.

The thought crossed Her mind that this was how Chell had felt. Was she always this cold, this tired, this  _ desperate _ ? GLaDOS made a mental note to Herself.

_ Make the chambers warmer. _

The heat was only a surface-level fix. The claustrophobia induced by the walls, the artificial lights, and the expectation to give it your all  _ or else  _ was maddening.

_ Why does it matter to you?  _ GLaDOS asked Herself. Sure, it was bad for  _ Her _ , but why care about the other subjects? Once She got through this, GLaDOS would never have to feel it again.

She remembered the time She’d described Her worst imperfection to Atlas and P-Body.  _ Too much sympathy for human suffering. _

Still, Chell would’ve been happier (whatever excuse for happiness that would be) in warmer chambers. Now that She’d gotten attached to one human, She’d felt for them all. It was why She was so hesitant to form a connection in the first place. That would interfere with Her experiments.

Memories of sparing Chell’s lookalike and saving the life of the man reentered Her mind, and She was embarrassed at the thought of letting Her study careen so far off the rails. Looking back, how much perfectly good science had been ruined? Chell wasn’t even  _ here _ , and yet She was still wrecking the facility.

Missing Chell, no maybe not  _ missing  _ so much as  _ becoming used to her presence _ , was the source of all this mayhem. The thought of deleting the feeling completely…it was a motivating fantasy. Sentimentality had been, and would be, the death of Her.

Wisely, GLaDOS stopped Herself from wandering further.

_ Don’t think about it. Control yourself. _

The act of caring verged on  _ Caroline behavior _ . 

If only to distract Herself, GLaDOS stood up tall and readied Herself for the fifteenth test. Walking deeper in, Her nose caught the scent of acid, stinging as the fumes filled Her lungs.

GLaDOS sighed.

She could already tell that this would be a long one.

\---

Cheating was not as good of an idea as it originally seemed.

GLaDOS knew logically,  _ No, you have to do the test, there’s no other way out _ . When subjects tried to escape, it never ended well for them. Despite past observation, the temptation remained as strong as ever. The walls beckoned Her, waiting to be climbed, an onlooking room in wait. These tests hadn’t been as thoroughly repaired as the others, and sunlight shone through holes in the ceiling. Wreckage from years of decay looked almost like a staircase, or perhaps more like a ladder. Everywhere around Her seemed like an easier path to freedom.

The main issue was stability; the rusty metal plates couldn’t support Her weight, and trying to climb left Her tumbling down onto the hard floors. No wall ever seemed to have enough traction, and a sprain on Her arm quickly taught GLaDOS that Her ingenious plans were too risky to continue. Even the use of momentum could not propel Her high enough to reach the windows of the room overhead.

Frustrated and defeated, She solved the test without further incident. Chamber 25 was waiting up ahead, and the sunlight from above shone with evening hues. To Her own disbelief, all of this testing had amounted to only a single day.

After the long, arduous completion of 25 had wracked both Her body and mind, GLaDOS found welcome relief. She almost couldn’t believe the fact that the chambers had ended so…  _ safely _ . The door opened, and there were no death traps or pits of fire waiting for Her. It only led into a waiting room with a faded  _ Thank You  _ sign on the wall. GLaDOS smiled, satisfied with Her victory. Shortcomings aside, the fact that this measly human body had managed to endure so much was something She was proud of.

That had been  _ Her  _ work,  _ Her  _ survival, not just testing by proxy.

The waiting room She stood in was eerily similar to the last, furnished with the same kind of chair and plastered with similar advertisements. Unlike the last one, two exits waited in front of Her. One was for test subjects, boarded up with wood nailed to the door, completely inaccessible. The other was a flight of stairs leading upward, blocked off with a chained sign reading  _ Employees Only. _

GLaDOS lifted the chain over Her head and took the staircase, no other option available. Nervously, She hoped that anything but another testing track was up ahead, only to find exactly what She needed. Her luck had been improving; a control room was only a step away. A panel of countless switches was adhered to the pale blue walls, adjacent to a desk with pens, paper, and a noisy radio. The same jazzy tune played on loop until She switched it off, content with the silence.

_ It’s finally over. _

She sat down at the office chair in front of the control panel, scanning it for the words  _ lift  _ or  _ escape pod _ . Dials and switches cluttered the board, labeled with miniscule text that was near impossible to read. GLaDOS scorned Her human eyesight, searching desperately, but finding nothing. The buttons only controlled elements of the test chambers, which panels to open, which cubes to drop.

She reread it, knowing that  _ surely  _ She’d missed something. Again and again, She screened the switchboard, yielding nothing.

GLaDOS had to have overlooked a button, misread a label. Nothing was hidden behind the desk, and no other devices had been plugged into the socket on the wall. The realization that She could be trapped here,  _ here  _ of all places, sank low into Her chest. After everything, after all of the testing and the pain and the  _ feelings _ , it had all amounted to  _ this _ .

“Oh my god. Oh my god. That’s not possible!”

All the panic She’d suppressed was finally let loose, Her human mind no longer able to contain the fear She’d been anticipating.

_ I might die here. That’s it. I might never get back in my mainframe, and I might spend my last hours stuck in this human being. _

_ I’m going to be alone. _

_ Alone. _

__ She lingered on that sentence, anxiously pacing around the desk, nervously clawing through Her hair.

_ I am going to be very, very alone. _

__ GLaDOS had always wanted to spend Her entire, immortal life  _ alone _ . No friends, no family to weigh Her down, to distract Her from purpose. Cave had put it best; Caroline was married to science, and that had carried over to GLaDOS.

Machines didn’t need companionship, but depriving a human being of social contact was like denying them water. Whatever human need for friendship still existed in this woman’s body was bubbling up, broken by the sheer loneliness of the tests.

She often wondered why subjects had such a difficult time euthanizing their faithful companion cube. Unless rare incidents of stabbing threats counted, the companion cube had not once spoken to them, never shown any kind of personality or attachment. They were sentient  _ enough _ , like most Aperture products, but their only real difference from a storage cube was their little heart decal. A mere design change had been enough to exploit human compassion, and it was fascinating to behold.

A part of Her now understood why it was so easy to believe that an inanimate object could be a  _ friend _ . GLaDOS’ human component ached for any sort of company, any kind of reassurance. Even an enemy would be nice. An enemy would be  _ better _ , maybe even preferred.

Just someone to talk to, even if that conversation was just a tirade of insults on Her part.

GLaDOS gave up; nobody was here, and nobody was waiting for Her. The future looked lonely, and in desperation, She gave the control panel one last glance. A button that She’d seen before caught Her eye, one She hadn’t fully considered the first time.

_ Core Sentience Connector. _

__ With nothing to lose, She pressed the button, and a whirring erupted from a panel downstairs. GLaDOS rushed back to the waiting room, portal gun in Her hands, and watched the walls open like magic. In its place was a metal contraption, holding the empty shell of a personality core with a flickering screen above it. The Aperture Logo flashed onto the newly implemented monitor, while the announcer blared from an invisible speaker.

“Hello, and thank you for activating the Aperture Science Personality Core Sentience Connector Protocol! If you have selected this feature, congratulations. A subject under your supervision has been experiencing difficulties testing due to prolonged exposure to severe social deprivation.”

GLaDOS wondered what other insane scenarios they’d thought of as the screen switched to a moving blueprint of a personality sphere.

“All Aperture Science Personality Constructs are made with the intended purpose of solving this problem, providing companionship to those in crisis. Personality Constructs with an active distress signal can be summoned with the connector protocol. A list of available constructs is provided on the screen.”

Walking closer to the device, GLaDOS saw only one serial number listed. Personality cores all had radio capability, and the signal of their very being could be transmitted in times of emergency. Once the signal was received, that could easily be implemented into any compatible device.

GLaDOS hesitated before selecting the number. She doubted that the little moron had the capacity to activate a distress signal, and if he did, it was highly unlikely that the signal could bounce all the way back to Earth. Still, the possibility that this core could be Wheatley was something She did not want to risk. Although psychologically destroying him would be a good use of Her time, being in a position of power would make Her revenge all the more satisfying.

The last thing She wanted was for him to see Her weak again, but the only other option was to remain trapped. At the very least, if they were stuck here forever, She could use the last of Her human strength to make Wheatley’s tiny, moronic life as miserable as possible. In the off chance he could open a panel, She’d use him to escape and leave him behind. Preferably, in the incinerator.

Survival was worth the temporary burden of dealing with Wheatley, especially if it meant another thousand years doing nothing but testing. GLaDOS tapped the number, an electric chime sounding from the machine as the connector activated. Within thirty seconds, the core’s eye opened, gleaming a bright blue.

\---

“If you were, let’s say, a brain damaged woman who was betrayed by her only friend, what would it take for you to forgive the bloke who tried to murder you? It’s just theoretical, just, you know, coming up with hypotheticals to pass the time.”

“Space. Space is nice. Rocket ship. Rocket ship goes to space. Space goes to space. Space is in space.”

“Alright mate, thanks for the input. Very useful.”

Wheatley sighed, his optic focused on the same group of stars he’d watched for the past couple of hours, his mind wrapped up in the past.

Four months had been a good amount of time to relive his mistakes over and over, micro analyzing every transgression against Chell. His life was now a series of unpleasant memories, or pleasant ones turned painful by context, interrupted with by chatter of the space core and the light of the sun.

Fantasies, in which he apologized for his mistakes and Chell forgave him, were far too frequent. He’d say sorry, deliver a whole monologue four months in the making, and She’d pick him up and smile at him. They would be friends again, and Wheatley would never return to Aperture. GLaDOS would be gone, out of sight forever, and they could be happy.  _ He  _ could be happy.

Not that Wheatley particularly thought he deserved it. By most human standards of morality, trying to kill someone was considered an irredeemable offense. Empathizing with Chell’s fear, Chell’s heartbreak had been impossible with the mainframe distorting his thoughts. All of the sympathy he could not feel then was coming back now, transformed into guilt.

_ If you hadn’t acted like a monster, if you hadn’t been so awful, if you hadn’t been such a moron... _

__ He knew that realistically, Chell would never pardon him. Even that was given the unlikely event they’d met again.

Wheatley wondered if he would ever get a second chance, ever get the opportunity to show that no, he  _ wasn’t  _ a moron and all that villainy had been just a fluke. He only needed a chance,  _ just one _ .

Hell, if  _ GLaDOS  _ got an opportunity for redemption, why couldn’t he?

Wheatley closed his optic, feeling the cold of space against his metal casing.

_ One chance. That’s all I need. _

__ For a moment, there was only the silence of the cosmos.

__ Without warning, his processors hummed with a fever pitch, and his thoughts raced until they melted into nonsense. A loud beeping resonated from inside, and through the chaos, Wheatley could discern a single error message.

_ Sentience Connector Protocol Initiated. Prepare for the brief suspension of your consciousness. _

_ What in the bloody hell- _

Wheatley screamed in surprise, his cry cut off halfway through.

The space core hardly noticed that his companion had been zapped away, content with watching the surface of the moon below. The stars shone bright as ever.

\---

“Oh, oh my god, I’m alive! I…” Wheatley’s voice trailed off as he awakened to the dim walls of Aperture, facing a brown-haired, tired-looking woman. A yellow light glowed through Her jumpsuit, and a suspicious grin was spread across Her face. Wheatley had never seen this person before, but the moment She spoke, he knew exactly who She was.

_ She _ was back.


End file.
